They warn us before we start our journeys as bright eyed bushy tailed students in law school. They warn us of the statistics; the high risk of depression, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, burn out… They warn us.

On Monday, I felt your warmth in my bed; your pull, beckoning for me to stay. I ignored you (with much difficulty) and left you to go to the gym. You never come with me and you hate it when I go. The more time I spend there, the less time I have for you. It’s better (for me) that way.

When I came back, you were gone.

You tried to convince me to come over Monday night, I said no. You came over instead and then asked to spend the night. I couldn’t refuse. I woke up in your arms Tuesday morning, disgusted.

I left for the gym and you left me alone.

Two days went by, I knew you were close; watching, waiting.

Friday came, I made plans with someone else. I didn’t want to see you and I thought you had moved on. Maybe you did. I thought I saw you with another girl on Thursday. In fact, she had the same depraved look I have after having spent a night with you…

2.30pm, I returned to my desk after a meeting, and there you were. Waiting. You sat across from me. I asked you to leave. You didn’t go. Instead, you came up behind me and stood over my shoulder. Running your hands over my arms, gently whispering in my ear. Again, I asked you to leave. You refused.

The phone rang and you stepped away so I could take it. I tried to prolong the call, knowing once I hung up, you would resume your position; and you did.

You lingered in my office for the remainder of the day, begging me to take you home, to allow myself to be consumed by you tonight, tomorrow, all weekend.

When it was time to go home, you followed me to my car. You ran your hands over mine as I shifted gears and drove us home. It was becoming harder to resist.

When we got home, I asked you to leave, I didn’t want your company tonight. I decided to shower, wash away the day; wash away you– but you followed me in and I drowned in you.

I couldn’t resist your advances anymore and I gave myself up to you, completely. You carried me into my bedroom and rested me on my bed. I lay before you in all my vulnerability. With pleading eyes, I looked to you for mercy, then pity. You took me in your arms and cradled me to sleep.

Clients appproach us from all walks of life; the business man who wants to secure his assets, the elderly mother who wants to make sure there’s adequate provision for her children in her will, the upper class young adult caught with possession of a controlled substance.

It’s easy to judge, too easy actually, almost as easy as it is to become disillusioned and cynical.

People think lawyers become disillusioned with years of practice, but I think it’s a sense of disillusionment with the world and the “way it works” that draws us to the legal profession.

And then one day, a client walks into your office, pours her heart out and pleads for “justice,” and you feel… indifferent.

You offer a warming smile and gently nudge a box of tissues towards her all while mentally weighing the authenticity of her tears and prospects of success. She tells you it’s not about the money, “it’s the principal of the matter.” She fumbles and fidgets with the tissues in her hand and you begin to analyse beyond the spoken words into the hidden gestures. Smiling, nodding, encouraging.

Birthdays are always nostalgic, but let’s be honest, it takes very little to tip me into nostalgia.

If I had to pick a theme, I’d say year 27 was about unfinished business; I finished what I had started (#lawyered) and it was all very, verybusiness.

Undoubtedly, the biggest accomplishment of year 27 was being finally admitted to the legal profession. A journey that started well over the 1418 days ago when I arrived to Australia to start law school.

I have set a different intention for Year 28; Year 28 is about beginnings, balance and beauty.

The beginning of new goals, new relationships, new adventures.

Finding balance between creating the life I want and enjoying the life I have created.